


& i want to walk with you (on a cloudy day)

by nutmeg101



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeg101/pseuds/nutmeg101
Summary: in fields where the yellow grass grows knee-highso won't you try to come+She can picture it all—what a life with Héloïse might look like, no matter where they are in the world. She would never tell Héloïse that all her heart desires is simplicity.
Relationships: Héloïse & Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire), Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 131





	& i want to walk with you (on a cloudy day)

***

When Marianne closes her eyes, all she can think of is the way Héloïse’s hands feel on her body, in her hair. The way that their lips feel pressed together, tender and warm, like that’s where they should always be. _Do all lovers feel they’re inventing something?_ The words echo in her head like a forbidden secret until she remembers where she is.

When she opens her eyes, there’s no sun, just grey skies and clouds. The sea is alive, gentle waves lapping into the shore as the breeze flutters through her hair. This time, she doesn’t have to close her eyes to feel Héloïse’s hand finding its way into her own, fingers interlocking, pulses synchronizing. Marianne’s heart flutters just like her hair when Héloïse presses a soft and slanted kiss into the corner of her mouth.

She could get used to this, Marianne thinks, or at least she’d like to. Not just the physical intimacy and the way it feels to be with Héloïse, but the way that out here, surrounded by the order and chaos of how vast the sea is, there is a certain profoundness in feeling like she’s nobody that makes her feel like she can be anybody.

That, and she knows the sea will keep her secrets.

“Let’s run away,” Marianne says to Héloïse, her voice getting caught in the wind, though it doesn’t go unheard. It’s a joke, mostly, even if neither of them laugh because under the circumstance it carries extra weight.

“Where would be go?” Héloïse says, entertaining the idea. Marianne feels the grip tighten around her hand as she says it.

“Somewhere warm, like Spain or Portugal. Perhaps even Greece.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Prague.”

“We could go anywhere,” Marianne suggests with a broken sort of hopefulness. She turns to look at Héloïse who is already looking at her and they exchange a soft smile, tinged with sadness.

When Marianne closes her eyes again, she can picture it all—what a life with Héloïse might look like, no matter where they are in the world. She would never tell Héloïse that all her heart desires is simplicity. Mornings where they can wake up together without any sort of fear or uncertainty because Héloïse in the morning is truly a work of art. The way she blinks the sleep out of her eyes and is not yet put together. Her lopsided smile and the way her hair is matted to which ever side she had fallen asleep on. It’s an image that Marianne could reproduce to infinity and it’s in these moments, lost to her own thoughts, that Marianne can feel her whole life in a single heartbeat.

Then there’s the way that Héloïse’s guard is all the way down; completely exposed and vulnerable, not yet hardened to the world. It’s a sacred version of her that she’s only ever allowed Marianne to bear witness. And if Marianne has learned one thing about Héloïse, it’s that behind the bravado, there is a person who has asked very little from the world and yet carries the burden of it.

“Somewhere that has an orchestra,” Héloïse says, snapping the reverie. “Or a library so big you need a ladder to reach the top shelf.”

_“Because literature is freedom,”_ they say together in between quiet laughter, but eventually the lightness fades away.

“You will have that in Milan,” Marianne tries for optimism. The words are sharp against her tongue and she regrets it immediately. It’s unfair that the universe would introduce her to Héloïse and let her fall in love with her; let them fall in love with each other.

“I don’t dream of Milan,” Héloïse says flatly, letting go of Marianne’s hand. It leaves a tender ache in Marianne’s palm, but she doesn’t move or say anything, she simply watches Héloïse take a few steps forward until the waves just lick at the tips of her shoes.

Far off in the distance, a small bolt of lightning splits through the fabric of the sky and slowly rain begins to fall. Héloïse looks back once and her eyes are red with tears. No words are needed to fill the space and the silence, Marianne feels it too. The anger and the unjustness of it all.

Marianne follows closely, never wanting for a moment to be too far away.

“Come,” she whispers against Héloïse’s cheek, lightly wrapping her fingers around her wrist. “Let’s go back.”

Héloïse shakes her head, keeping her gaze trained forward. “I don’t dream of Milan,” she says again, now shivering from the rain and cold. “I think about being with you.”

Marianne feels the gravity of the words settle between them, the sharp pang in her chest. More than anything, that is what she wants. To be able to love and have Héloïse for an eternity.

Gingerly, Héloïse tugs at the lapels of Marianne’s jacket and pulls her close. She lets her forehead rest against Marianne’s and wraps her arms around her for warmth and support. Marianne places her hands on Héloïse’s face, letting her thumbs trail over the soft skin. They stay like that for a while, several rounds of painful heartbeats shared between them.

Marianne kisses Héloïse first. It’s soft but passionate and Héloïse’s lips taste like salt from the tears that have sprung from her eyes. Héloïse kisses her back with equal fervor, if not more. She lightly captures Marianne’s bottom lip between her teeth and lets her tongue smooth over it. Marianne sighs into Héloïse’s mouth and even through the rain and the sadness, Marianne will never not feel the heat rush through her body when she feels Héloïse’s tongue against her own. 

They kiss until the passion turns bittersweet; until the inevitability of their fate catches up with them. There’s a physical ache in the space between them when they separate and all the air leaves Marianne's lungs at once, like wind gusting through a tunnel. They press their foreheads together again, breathing in unison as dark storm clouds begin to shroud them.

“I would, you know,” Héloïse says, the words ghosting over Marianne’s lips. “Run away with you.” 

There’s a brief moment that follows where Marianne doesn’t feel anything before feeling everything. Deep down, she knows this to be true—that they would take the blue the from the sky for each other—but she wishes she didn’t because then maybe this might be easier. Then, as the thunder rolls in and sea becomes violent, she feels her heart physically break and she can’t control it anymore than she can control the tide.

“I know,” her breath hitches, words lost to the wind. “I know.”

_**fin.** _

**Author's Note:**

> [Come Away With Me - Norah Jones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbjZPFBD6JU)


End file.
